Let's get Fatboy to run

'Come on now, Fatboy! Let's get you to run. Raise your feet. Don't shuffle 'em. Raiiise 'em. Look there. Look, look, look. See the Sun? That's a golden donut. That's a golden donut coated with honey crust. Tell me, tell you don't want that donut and we'll stop running. 

'Fatboy? Your mummy's a pretty rad lady. She's no stupid. She had you 'cause you were once your dad's rad sperm. You were a bloody superstar in her ovaries. That's quite a something. No? No? Come on. You can nod your head while running. But you CAN'T shuffle. Remember, Fatboy, all your life, you were meant to run. See? See? Good. 

'Now, Fatboy, a while ago, they came up with this piece of trash called the Sound of Music. Heard of it? Yeah, you have? Watched it? Oh yes? Well, did you like it? No? Heh. Nasty liar. Anyway, they got it all wrong. I'll show you the real sound of music. Jog up, that's right. Now listen. Heave, heave, pant, pant, heave, heave, pant, pant, heave, heave, pant, pant. HAHA. That's right, boy.

'Fatboy... Fatboy? You've got to catch up now. No, no, no, no, nooooo. Don't stop. Don't! Get up. Geeeet up. GET UP, Fatboy. You don't want your obtuse coach to beat you, right? You don't want him to say stuff about you, your family, your generation? In fact, you don't want to be beaten by yourself, huh? How'd that feel, I wonder. How'd it feel to be a-so delusional about one's own ability? How does it - yes, yes. That's it. THAT'S IT! YOU GO, BOY! Now don't stop. Keep running. That' it. HAHAHA. Keep running ... don't stop ... DON'T STOP.'

Because, no matter what, it's so important to keep running.